


Mind Games

by shrikethrush



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Chess Metaphors, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrikethrush/pseuds/shrikethrush
Summary: Evan joins his school’s chess club.This changes everything.(An exercise in perspective)
Relationships: Alana Beck & Connor Murphy, Alana Beck & Evan Hansen, Alana Beck & Jared Kleinman, Alana Beck & Zoe Murphy, Connor Murphy & Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen & Connor Murphy, Evan Hansen & Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen & Zoe Murphy, Jared Kleinman & Connor Murphy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Mind Games

_Zugzwang — (noun) — a situation in which making any move poses a distinct disadvantage, and yet the obligation to make a move remains, regardless._

***

To say this wasn’t what Evan wanted was an understatement. It was _the_ understatement. It wasn’t that chess was the problem – quite the opposite, really! He rather enjoyed chess! But this...this was _not_ what he expected. Even remotely. 

“Oh, Evan, I didn’t know you play chess!” Alana smiled widely _(fakely)_ as she approached Evan. They were in a small room that had formerly been for storing the drama club’s extra stuff until they’d cleared out the space under the stage. Now it was exclusively for the chess club, the only people that wanted it, a little nook at the corner of the school in the hall across from the auditorium. “It looks like the chess club is just the two of us, this year! Let’s make it count!” 

“Yeah, absolutely!” Evan responded, trying and failing to be as upbeat as Alana. “Do you play often?” 

“Oh, all the time! My grandmother taught me, y’know, and she’s not doing particularly well, but over the summer we’re hoping that she’s gonna get to recover a little bit!” A bird tittered out the window, perched precariously on a flowering branch. “She said if she’s feeling up to it, she’s gonna do her best to make it to our big competition in July! I really hope she can make it.” 

“So is that what we do?” Evan shifted from foot to foot. “Play chess together to train and then compete in tournaments?”

“Yep!” Alana smiled. “It would be better if we had more people –”

“Luckily for you, _I_ have arrived!” Jared grinned. “I heard Ev decided to join the chess club, and I _had_ to join. If only to mock the nerdiest nerd of them all, of course.” 

“Such behavior is intolerable, as the president of the chess club –”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jared waved her off. “Anyway, we play chess and go to tournaments, right? _Awesome._ I never thought I’d see the day that Evan joins a club of his own volition, frankly.” 

“It was this or an internship at Ellison, and I didn’t wanna do the interview,” Evan went beet red. “And – and I can do chess. I’m good at chess. I’ve beat _you,_ Jared.” 

“Only because your pawns led an uprising with singing and barricades and when I captured your king you declared that all your pawns were now kings in their own right, and were capable of moving like queens due to their ‘zeal’.” Jared rolled his eyes. “It’s why you’re not allowed to listen to musicals prior to playing chess going forward.” 

“You suck.” Connor slouched into the room. “All three of you. You’re the worst.” 

“No, that’s you, jackass.” Zoe rolled her eyes, filing in behind him. “Sorry about my brother. He’s pissed that our parents are making him do this, and _I’m_ pissed that they’re making me play babysitter.” 

“Wow, we have a lot more people than I anticipated!” Alana grinned. “This is so exciting, our chess club is really gonna turn out this year!” 

“It’s certainly going to be...something.” Evan agreed, sitting at a desk – behind the black pieces, of course _._ “Anybody wanna play a game?” 

Connor sat across from him, a slight frown on his face as he raised his eyebrows at Evan. “Not going for the first move advantage?” 

“I prefer to – well, I’d rather react than act.” 

Connor let out a small hum, putting forth a King’s Gambit. 

Evan accepted. 

Connor was a romantic chess player, oddly enough. He played fast, tactical maneuvers. He wasn’t much of a match for Evan, who had a tendency to play the long game. But in this instant, Evan found he didn’t _want_ to play to his usual style. Instead he played with equally bold strokes, sacrificing pieces like a man with nothing to lose. Eventually, he’d pinned Connor down with two knights and a bishop. 

“Checkmate,” Evan cracked a wide grin, having forgotten for an instant everything that he had to fear. Here, _he_ was in control. And he was good enough. 

“You’re a remarkable player,” Connor admitted at the end. “You could read me the entire time. You had me thinking I was playing offensive while you were sacrificing so many pieces, and then you ended up kicking my _ass_ with a couple of minor pieces.” 

“Well you – you just have a tendency – I mean it’s not a _weakness_ but you play very strongly? So like, distracting you from that – or just being willing to give up pieces for a strategic advantage – or just flat out _baiting_ you – seems like a good way to win? If you ask me. But I don’t really know, really, it’s not a huge deal –” 

“It’s impressive you actually picked up on it,” Alana leaned behind Evan, who jumped a little bit at her proximity. “I didn’t notice that until later into the match, honestly.” 

“It’s Evan’s greatest strength,” Jared rolled his eyes. “He can read anyone in the span of like, a couple seconds, and immediately plan how to counter their style. It’s also his biggest weakness, ‘cuz when he’s playing against someone who can read _his_ style, he loses his shit. So, like, when I play him, I know how he expects me to play and throw off his style. It’s fun.”

“Okay _Mr. Bishop,_ go ahead. You can insult my playstyle all – all you like!” Evan glared at Jared, whose expression had turned murderous. “It’s not like you’ve got a laughable playstyle or anything!”

“It’s not _laughable –”_

“Making a risky move to save your favorite piece is _entirely_ laughable, Jared! I like beating people with promoted pawns way more than the next person, but you don’t see me going out of my way to promote them just because I think it’s got _flair!”_ Evan waved his hands as if it would prove a point. 

Connor actually snorted. “Flair?” 

“Promoted pawns are up to their goddamn _ears_ in flair,” Zoe agreed with a snort, causing Evan to jump in surprise. He’d almost forgotten she was there. “Oodles of it. Fuckin’ _loads_ of flair.” 

_“Flair_ is winning with a bishop and a king and nothing else, because it’s almost like winning with a pawn and a king! It shows _forethought_ and _skill_ and _strategy –”_

“– It – it shows devotion to poor planning that somehow succeeds!” Evan cut Jared off. 

“Nah, I think Jare-bear is on to something here,” Connor leaned back in his seat, laughter playing at his lips. “Bishops are glorified pawns, and therefore must be used strategically to be of any real value. Most people see them only as pieces to be sacrificed, so being able to use one wisely means that it’s a plan and not just some bullshit someone threw together –”

“You’re all _sleeping_ on knights!” Alana butted in. “I mean, _honestly,_ you’re discussing flair and strategy and entirely ignoring the piece with the strangest movement pattern in the entire game!”

“They’re too _flamboyant –”_ Zoe argued. 

“You’re calling a chess piece flamboyant?” Jared asked with a quirked eyebrow. Evan couldn’t help the laugh that spilled out. Every eye in the room flew to him. 

“Sorry. I – I just – I never thought I’d be in chess club with _you guys,_ talking about _flair_ and – and flamboyant chess pieces.” 

Jared rolled his eyes with a small scoff. “He’s got a point. I never thought I’d be with the queen of the band freaks, lord of the burnouts, Evan ‘would rather have a conversation with a tree than a person’ Hansen, and _Alana Beck,”_ Jared said her name as if it spoke for itself, “in _chess club._ The wonders will never cease!” 

Evan privately smiled to himself, and in the farthest corner of his mind, agreed. This truly _was_ a wonder. It, at least, had the possibility of turning out to be wonder _-ful._ And that was what mattered, really, wasn’t it? 

All that mattered was not screwing up. 

***

There was something special about chess club. Something homely, and warm. Somewhere along the way, Alana had started bringing tea – and Jared decided to bring a couple of big armchairs, and Zoe had brought some fairy lights to string across the ceiling, and Connor had folded hundreds of little paper animals that hung from the ceiling and stuck to the walls and often found themselves tucked away inside of people’s bags when they weren’t looking, to be found later on when they were most needed. 

“I like to have something to do with my hands,” Connor would shrug when asked. “Keeping my hands busy keeps my head from getting too busy.” 

Evan understood, and later that week brought Connor some of his extra embroidery stuff. They never spoke about it, but something deepened, there. 

Yes, there was something special about the cozy room they met in, about playing games, and reading each other, and sharing ambitions over cups of tea.

“Ambition is always treated like a _bad_ thing,” Alana smiled when she spotted Evan’s Slytherin mug, smiling into her Gryffindor one. “But it’s not, really. There’s nothing wrong with dreaming, for wanting something and chasing it with all you can. Fairness is _much_ scarier than ambition. Much scarier than most things, truthfully. Courage is recklessness, when taken too far. And there are more important things than cleverness,” Alana shrugged. “Whatever it is you’re chasing, reach out, take it, and never let go.” 

Evan gripped his mug tighter. “I took the test, and I got put in Slytherin. I don’t know what it is I’m chasing – not yet. I just want to be enough.” 

“If you’re not enough, it’s not you that’s the problem. So change the world, not yourself.” Alana smiled widely, pouring a bit more tea into Evan’s mug. 

Speaking of the mugs, they used the thick, well-crafted mugs that Evan preferred to the thin tea cups that his mother had pulled out once she’d realized that Evan enjoyed tea. 

Porcelain was delicate. It could shatter, spilling red-hot liquid and glass across the hands of the poor fool who accidentally broke it. Evan couldn’t stand the thought. 

Zoe was strange, because once she’d been so far away and now she was close. The two of them played chess together late into the afternoon, intricate games based in fast paced strategy, never quite knowing who was playing defense and who was playing offense. It was a race in subterfuge, a Slytherin-versus-Slytherin match, where pieces were sacrificed in the name of their kings and were taken mercilessly. The sunset was always peaking through the windows by the time one of them won or lost, a full day of chess under their belts, and yet it somehow felt like the sunrise every time. 

Zoe always looked at him with stars in her eyes and an exhilarated grin on her face, adrenaline somehow flowing through her veins despite the stationary nature of the game. 

“That was awesome!” She always would say, biting her bottom lip as she reached for a cup of tea. Her mug had little stars all over it, connecting in constellations with stories Evan couldn’t quite remember. “Close game, yeah?” And then she would always follow with “I’ll kick your ass, next time!” or “You’ll never defeat me!” and a prompt villainous cackle. 

It was a subtle thing, the friendship that grew in the spaces between them. Because that’s what it was, truly – a moment of quiet here, a shared word there, the pauses between games and the moments of quiet where they were merely coexisting.

But soon, suddenly, the Company of Eclectic Chess Competitors were more than that. They were...friends? Acquaintances? 

Soon, suddenly, unlocking the door every summer morning felt like coming home. At least here, things were loud, there were _people._

Of course, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. A week before their big tournament in July –

“Come _on,_ there’s gotta be somebody you like! Everybody – everybody likes _somebody,_ and I just told you mine –”

Jared recoiled like he’d been burned, before breaking into a sneer. 

“You’re not my _friend,_ we only spend time together because of our parents, _honestly –”_ Something was in Jared’s face – something mean and ugly that Evan hadn’t seen in Jared since the school year, something he’d noticed the last time he’d last looked at himself in the mirror and pulled himself to pieces. “What, did you get too caught up in playing house? Look around you, Evan! Do you honestly think this is going to hold up when these people have options again? When school starts, do you really think they’re going to choose _you_ over anyone else in the school?” 

The words hit Evan like a knife between his ribs, striking him exactly where he was most susceptible to pain. 

“I –”

“Face it, Evan, this is all going to crumble to pieces! You’re just fooling yourself and everyone else when you refuse to acknowledge it.” 

A pit opened in Evan’s stomach and he did his best to swallow it down, to pretend it wasn’t there. He left early that day, as did Jared. He couldn’t bear to go to meetings for the rest of the week. 

So it was pretty surprising when Zoe came to Evan’s house on Wednesday with a bag full of candy, cheesy musicals, and nail polish. 

“C’mon, let’s just cry it out with some Rent, paint our nails colors that are gonna clash with everything we wear, and eat enough unhealthy food that we make ourselves sick, yeah?” Zoe smiled. “And what Jared said was bullshit, by the way. We’re friends now.” 

Evan couldn’t help the smile that spread, and they spent the day just as she’d said – eating bad food, playing bad video games, and garish nail painting. 

As the sun began to set, they even played a game of chess. They kept a running conversation as they played, the pieces comfortable and familiar after using them for several days. 

“I just...don’t know what to do. I love him, I think. At least, I think I love him in that way that people love their friends, y’know?” Evan bit his bottom lip as he looked at the way Zoe had moved, quickly moving one of his own pieces before he began again. “But I don’t want to forgive him for what he’s said. Not yet, at least. I feel like if I do, he’s just gonna get back to pushing me around, y’know? And I won’t – I won’t be a pushover anymore.” 

“Well...” Zoe was quiet as she began. “Sometimes, making a mistake is the only way to move forward, y’know? What better time to fuck up is there than when we’re kids? If we learn how to fuck up – if we learn how to fuck up and _own_ it while we’re still young enough that there aren’t huge concsequences – I think we still can turn out alright. Sometimes, the only action you can take is a bad choice. In those situations, you gotta ask yourself: what’s better, doing nothing, or doing something? Funnily enough, I think that sometimes the best choice you can make is a bad one.” She glanced down at the board, a small smile on her face. “It’s like this game. If I were allowed to not move at all, I’d win. But now that I have to move, I’m going to lose. I think your relationship with Jared is the same way. You fucked up, and _he_ fucked up, and there’s no good move to make. But you gotta move anyway.” 

She moved a piece, and Evan checkmated her. 

It was shortly after that when Zoe had to leave, and Evan’s mom returned home for the day not long after Zoe’s departure. 

“Hi honey! Sorry I got in late – you know how it is, long days and such. Oh! Since I can’t make it to your tournament, I got you a ride with Jared – I hope you don’t mind.” 

Evan gave a small smile as his stomach dropped to the floor. 

“Yeah – yeah, that’s cool.” 

It was _not_ cool as he panicked for the next several days – until Saturday, actually, when he woke up before sunrise so they could get to the school before taking the bus to the tournament’s location. 

Jared was waiting in his car outside when Evan ducked out the front door. He looked almost...guilty? When he saw Evan, he gave something akin to a wave and a crumbled smile. Evan slipped into the car, and Jared passed him a cup of hot chocolate. 

“I’m sorry. I – I don’t deserve it, but I – I’m sorry.” Jared was shaking a little bit. “I want you to know that I’m sorry. The sorriest I’ve ever been.” 

Touches of dawn crept in, streams of gold and red light dying Evan’s face in an orange glow. His voice was soft as he spoke, hot chocolate clutched between his hands as he gave a melancholy copy of a smile. 

“Love. It’s impossible to define, but so, _so_ important. And you never – never really _know_ when you love someone. Not really. But you take a chance, you try anyway, because you know that it’s worth it. That a chance at loving them _is_ worth it.” Evan was quiet as he spoke to Jared. “That’s how I know I love you. Because I know that you’re someone worth taking a chance on, because no matter how much you give up on yourself, I don’t wanna stop believing in you. And – there’s no _right_ way to love. Is what I’m saying.” 

Jared wiped at his eyes, trying his best not to cry. “I’ve been such an ass –”

Evan let out a laugh. “Yeah, you have. But everyone fucks up. And this is _your_ fuckup. So own it, move forward, and accept that you can change. That’s all you _can_ do.” 

Jared nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” 

Evan was quiet when he started talking again. “I’m...sorry about whatever it is I implied about love when we were talking. I don’t know what it is that has you so touchy about it...but whatever it is, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m...not straight. I’m also not gay. I’m...nothing? Or at least, I don’t feel anything. Like, when it comes to that kind of thing, I’m just...not interested. And so my relationship with love and relationships in general is...less than healthy?” Jared shrugged. “Fuck, I dunno. I just know that I let myself get into some very unhealthy relationships because I was forcing myself to try to feel _something_ for _somebody_ and it just made my whole relationship with love _worse._ And I think I was finally getting to a point where I was okay with just being – like, me? And not needing anyone, despite how _weird_ it is. Because, like, alright, in movies and books and stuff, there’s always a _minimum_ of a romantic subplot, and I just...I dunno. I don’t get it.” 

“So you’re aromantic?” Evan asked. “Because if you thought I’d have a problem with it – like, I’m a biromantic ace, so –” 

“Okay, you lost me. What does that stuff mean?” 

“You don’t know?” Evan blinked. “Shit, alright, _well –”_

***

“Okay, hear me out – Rom-Com: The Tale of a Romantic Communist,” Jared grinned like he’d won the lottery, and Zoe couldn’t help but sigh. 

“Jared, for the last time, that’s a _terrible idea,”_ she groaned. “We get it, you’re aromantic and you’re super glad to have figured it out. I’m personally very proud of you for that because I know it’s really hard. But does that _really mean_ you need to poke fun of _every_ romance based trope?”

“I’ve lived my _entire life_ in the shadow of romance movies,” Jared snickered. “Let me have this.” 

“That’s true,” Alana shrugged, her eyes red as she returned to the school. They were at a local elementary school where the tournament was being held, and she’d had to take a personal call – electing to do so outside while the rest of the group remained inside. She looked like she was barely holding herself together. “I – sorry. My grandma – she broke her hip, getting into the bathtub? She was getting ready to come see me play. She’s alright, but...it doesn’t look good.” 

“Do you want to go home? We totally understand –” Connor looked lost as the words started spilling out of Evan’s mouth. “It’s okay, really. If you want to be with her –”

“She’d kick my ass, are you kidding?” Alana gave half a laugh. “If I quit here because of her, she’d force her hip to heal in half a second because I gave up at something. She was always the one who pushed me to sign up for stuff, y’know? Told me to not put all my weight in academics and achievements, but to go out there and _do_ something. I never really understood what she was telling me.” 

Jared wrapped an arm around Alana, who leaned into it. It was...kind of strange, if you asked Evan, to see them so close. But, then, they’d also spent every day of the summer together. And Alana had _personally_ set out to teach Jared her greatest strength – forty five ways to politely verbally eviscerate your foes over a game of chess. Jared had initially taken to the lessons like a fish to water, but had taken to Alana like oil to water. 

But with enough shaking, even oil and water can mix. And, Evan supposed, things had been shaken up a _lot_ this summer, and Alana was looking pretty shaken right now. 

But there wasn’t time to reflect on that – the matches had been announced, and Evan had a game to win. 

And he did win. A decisive victory, in fact. It was bitter, almost, a simple victory that he could see in his mind’s eye, a thoughtless calculated countdown to the inevitable. 

He ended up playing white. He _hated_ playing white. 

Games ended up flying by – decisive victories culminating in a final match against a kid from a local high school. She looked to be about a junior, hair wild and untamed like a lioness and eyes alight with the fire of ambition. 

She was like looking in a mirror. A more confident mirror. An _Evan-but-better_ mirror. Before the match, she shook his hand with a wide grin. 

“Hi! I’m Abby, it’s a pleasure to meet you – let’s have a good match today, okay?” She stood with her weight on her toes, feet turned out and posture immaculate. She was a dancer, and – judging by her jacket – the captain of her school’s cheer squad. 

She was _exactly_ the kind of person that would’ve terrified him a few months ago. In fact, a couple of months ago, he would’ve been frozen. He wouldn’t have been able to _move._

But move forward – he would. He _had_ to. Even if there was no other option, he had to move forward. 

“It’s – it’s really nice to meet you! I’m Evan. Let’s make this a great match!” 

And a great match it _was._ Abby was brilliant. She could read Evan just as well as Evan could read her, and where Evan was a little more defensive and careful, she was _aggressive_ with a brilliant tactical mind. She played white and opened with a king’s gambit. 

Frankly, she played like _Connor,_ but better. 

Evan didn’t accept the gambit. This time, he was going to play as _himself._

He moved his queen – Abby took a moment, double checked her pieces, and let out a resigned laugh. 

_“Shit,_ Evan, nothing I do is gonna work at this point. It’s not a checkmate but I don’t think I can win at this point. You got me!” Abby shook Evan’s hand, rising from her seat. “Let’s play again sometime, okay? I won’t let you get me twice!” 

Evan smiled slightly. He _won._

“Yeah, let’s play again sometime!” 

Sometimes, moving forward was _worth_ it. 


End file.
